Page 31 of Stroked by (Stroked)
I am so screwed, if I stay, bad things are going to happen. I can feel it. He is too attractive and he has too much swagger for me not to throw my entire body at him.
Deciding right then and there that it is time for me to leave before I lose control of my emotions . . . scratch that, lose control of my sexual attraction, I stand up from the couch to look for my bag just in time to see Reese walking down the hallway, hair wet, chest glistening, and his white towel riding dangerously low on his waist.
From my viewpoint—not that I’m closely examining himbut I can’t help it—I see his bulge pressing against the terrycloth of the towel causing me to instantly swallow the saliva attempting to become drool from the mere sight of him.
“Going somewhere?” he asks, coming dangerously close to me.
Just a few feet away, he stands tall, confidence in his bones, a smirk on his face, one of those side smiles that make your panties melt right off.
“Um, I was just looking for my bag. I think it might be time to go home.”
He steps even closer, I can feel the humidity of the shower coming off him, the fresh smell of his soap permeating my senses, wrapping me in the perfect little Reese cocoon.
“Leave?” his husky voice asks, stepping even closer so now we are only inches apart.
My heart beats in my chest, my legs start to give out on me, and a delicious pulse starts to throb in my clit from his proximity, delighting every nerve ending in my body.
“But we haven’t even had lunch yet. I need help making my pasta salad. You won’t skip out on me now, will you?” He leans even closer; if I stuck my tongue out, I would be able to touch his cheek with it.
What is he doing? Going for a side kiss? A cheek-on-cheek thing? Maybe butterfly kisses? I can butterfly kiss him real good right now if I want to. Would he like that?
Of course he would. What kind of heathen doesn’t like butterfly kisses?
“I-I guess not,” I stutter.
“Good.” He smiles and leans forward even more. I suck in a deep breath of air, waiting for him to make his move, when he quickly reaches behind me and then pulls away, holding up a pair of shorts. A long whoosh of air flies out of me, full of relief and disappointment.
Did I want him to reach around me and undo my bathing suit? Hell, yeah. Did I want him to reach behind me and stick his hand down my swimsuit, cupping my ass only to push me up against the world’s most comfortable couch and fuck my mouth with his tongue? Pretty much.
But he is in a relationship, and he is my boss. Two things I have no intention of screwing up.
With resolve, I step farther away and dust off my cover-up for some reason. Really, I am nervous and fidgety, so I need something to do with my hands.
“You good with the knife?” he asks, stepping around behind a chair.
“I’m okay with . . .” I pause just as he whips his towel off, revealing the bottom of his waistline, where his hip divots cut in and the root of his cock rests.
I pant.
I pant right there in front of him . . . like a dog in heat, staring dramatically at the vision of a Grecian god standing in front of me.
There it is, the root of his cock, short, trimmed hair resting beside it. Just like that, my clit starts pounding with arousal and I want one thing and one thing only: the man standing in front of me. There is no denying it.
Too bad for me, though, I only get a sneak peek, but from what I can see, his dick is thick.
Eff me.
He puts his shorts on, snaps the waistband and steps out from behind the chair. “You were saying?” he asks me, clearly tuned into my perusal.
“I know how to use knife,” I respond like a caveman. Thankfully I refrain from scratching the top of my head and one of my armpits at the same time while dancing in place.
He chuckles, a rugged rumble from his chest.
Eff me . . . again.
“Good to know. Want to show me your skills in the kitchen?”
I nod, not able to speak. I follow behind him like a lovesick puppy, wishing he would give me a little more attention. Maybe a pat on the head, a lick to the neck, or a penis to my vagina.Anywould really do right about now.
